


The Perfect Mimic

by WolfVenom



Series: R6S Drabbles [23]
Category: Tom Clancy's Rainbow Six (Video Games)
Genre: Birds, Crack, Emotional support animal, Established Relationship, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Implied Sexual Content, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, implied eating disorder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2018-09-20
Packaged: 2019-07-14 21:48:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16049219
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WolfVenom/pseuds/WolfVenom
Summary: When Montagne notices Bandit becoming more distressed about his increasing absences, he brings a friend all the way from home to give Bandit the support he needs. And she's the perfect companion.It's just that Bandit may be doing the whole 'responsible adult' thing wrong.





	The Perfect Mimic

**Author's Note:**

> I just wanted more fluffy mountain climbing. Essentially, Josie helps Bandit with motivation; eating, working out, doing chores. She's famous for causing trouble to get people to do things. I don't know, just Bandit and birds. And Monty too.

“Dominic, this is Josephine.”

 

Bandit stares. 

 

Because there's no way,  _ absolutely no way  _ that  _ Montagne  _ is offering him a hand with an outstretched finger, providing a sturdy perch for a  _ big  _ fucking bird who looks at him devoid of emotion. She is stock still, not a feather rumpled on her pristine little head, and pale yellow eyes housing tiny black dots gazing into his  _ soul.  _

 

Bandit realizes he must've been standing like a dumbass gawking for a solid minute, because Montagne's smile wavers just slightly and he looks as if he's about to pull the bird away when Bandit finally finds his voice again. “It's a fucking chicken.”

 

In hindsight, he concurs that he was very much in the right to forget the English word for ‘parrot’, and that Montagne was being an asshole by laughing at his statement, because English is hard and Montagne is  _ offering him his damned bird-- _

 

“Just hold her, yeah?” The elder manages to say between spouts of laughter, holding Josephine closer to Bandit where she can safely step up onto his shoulder without falling off nor tearing his hoodie with her claws. For a moment, he’s stuck in place, too stunned to move and too frightened of the thing to move a muscle while she eyes his ear with so much interest Bandit suddenly feels the need to prepare an appointment for reconstructive surgery. Montagne seems to notice his hesitation, so he pats Josephine’s head adoringly and says, “don’t worry, she doesn’t bite hard, just nibbles gently. It’s how she says hello.”

 

Montagne isn’t the lying type, so Bandit tries to relax his shoulders and tentatively turn his head to look at Josephine. She’s standing still and proper, one eye blinking slowly. Her grey feathers turn white near her head and breast, before bleeding red at the tail, and her beak neatly trimmed. She’s on the larger side of African grey parrots, so Bandit expects he’s going a little cross-eyed while studying her colouration, and before he knows it she’s suddenly tipped her face towards his till her bill touches the bridge of his nose, and makes a loud and greatly exaggerated kissy sound.

 

He’s so shocked he barely notices Montagne stifling full-bellied laughter behind his knuckles as he watches, eyes crinkled in delight as Josephine kisses Bandit once on the forehead, cheek, mouth, eye, and temple as he tries to turn his head away from the assault. “Christ, you dumb bird,  _ stop,  _ no kisses.”

 

Miraculously, she listens and leans back to look at him with a tilt to her head, attentive as he moves and suddenly it’s like Montagne isn’t even in the room, Bandit wandering to the couch to sit down and hold his hand out in front of Josephine. Happily, she hobbles into his palm and steadies herself by biting ever so softly onto his thumb, and Bandit couldn’t fight the smile even if he tried. 

  
  


\---

  
  


“ _ Ban-deet! Ban-deet!”  _ The sharp trilling echoes around the gymnasium, followed by sweet little smooching sounds when another human being opens the door to the training room. Bandit couldn’t care. He’s at nearly two hundred pull-ups and he’s aiming for five hundred before lunch starts. His eyes connect with Josephine’s, who is sitting on the bar between Bandit’s white-knuckled grip, calling his name repeatedly and tapping him on the nose with her beak in a mock kiss each time he successfully does a set. IQ pauses dumbfounded in the doorway, eyebrows raised in disbelief at the sight.

 

He hasn’t noticed her yet, so before it gets any further she makes herself known by clearing her throat and rapping on the wall next to her, startling her teammate into pulling short on his next set and dropping from the bar. The bird yelps and her wings open dramatically, head bowing up and down and up and down as she tries to assess the damage below her.

 

“ _ Fuck, Jesus,  _ what the hell Monika?”

 

“ _ Fuck! Monika! Fuck!”  _

 

IQ stares. Bandit looks right back, not even the least bit ashamed of what he’s done. 

 

She inhales sharply, hoping Dominic feels her displeasure from across the room. “Did… Did you just teach Montagne’s  _ parrot,  _ how to say  _ fuck,  _ in only  _ two days? _ ” 

 

“Well, technically, I didn’t teach anyth--” IQ cuts his excuse off with a raised hand.

 

“I don’t care! He’s going to kill you, you know? She curses in front of him once and she won’t stop, and he’ll  _ know  _ it was your dumb ass, then what’re you going to do? Huh?” Her arms cross over her chest and her frustration is tangible in the air. 

 

Bandit rubs the back of his neck, heaving himself into an upright position on the mat, sweat gathered on his chest. “Honestly? Didn’t even think that far ahead.” Montagne surely wouldn’t hate him for putting foul words in his bird's mouth, right? 

 

Tired of being ignored, Josephine glides down from the bar and nestles down in Bandit’s hair, chirping softly to herself to fill the aggressive silence. 

 

And on his head she continues to sit as he’s bullied out of the gym by his teammate, dragging his feet grumpily toward mess hall where he grabs the nearest edible thing and drops down on a random seat to stop the rumbling in his belly. Every third bite, Bandit breaks off a piece of his bread and holds it above his head where Josephine can get it. She takes great care to chew over Bandit’s brow, where crumbs fall off his hair instead of in it. Which would be terrible. But Bandit supposed it would blend in well enough with the dirty blond mess he hasn’t combed back yet.

 

“What in the bloody hell kind of hat is that, mate?” Smoke appears out of thin air, arms full of different candies and sweets and half a popsicle stick hanging out of his mouth as he props on foot up on the bench and very pointedly ends up with his groin in Bandit’s face.

 

“Fuck off, Mary Poppins, I’m trying to eat lunch in peace.” He retorts, his bark lacking bite. Smoke hums and drops his horde on the table without asking, dumping himself as close to Bandit as possible and hanging off his shoulder like a cheap hooker.

 

“What a beauty, eh? Whattya say she lets me pet her? She won’t bite me none, right? Come here pretty, James just wants one feather,” he drawls, hand prematurely raised to pat Josephine while she holds a sliver of crust in one foot and glares at him with the other. He gets about halfway before Bandit remembers they definitely aren’t alone in the mess hall and Montagne is surely about to come inside any minute and trying to explain his plucked bird would be Hell in a handbasket, and before he can stop Smoke from putting his fingers where they don’t belong, Josephine has already tossed the breadcrumb at Smoke and flapped her wings with a shrill ‘ _ fuck!’ _

 

For about a minute or two Bandit covers his eyes in defeat and wonders if going back to prison for murder would be worth it, but then Montagne’s shadow looms over the table and Smoke ceases giggling faster than a roadrunner on crack cocaine. Bandit refuses to look up. In his mind, he flits through the thousands of possibilities and end games this encounter could throw at him, and with no sense of flagrancy left in his system, does what Bandit usually ends up doing. 

 

It takes him seconds to compose himself,  _ “Heyyyy,  _ babe. Fancy seeing you here!” He drawls with a cheery voice, smile wide and fake and hopefully convincing. Smoke looks at him with confusion out of this world as he abruptly stands up and crawls across the table-- hands and knees-- and wraps his arms around Montagne’s shoulders, squeezing him tightly around the neck and nuzzling into his jaw.

 

Many eyes are stuck on his weird new display as if he’s grown seven new arms, but his relationship depends on how well he can bullshit this next part and he’d be damned if Kapkan snapping pictures on his phone in the corner is going to deter him now. He’ll just deal with the Russian later.

 

Josephine has already hopped off of Bandit and is making circles around the floor, so he doesn’t need to worry about her as he tries to kiss the frown off of Montagne’s lips.

 

“See? Little Josie is fine,” Bandit drags on the ‘i’ cheekily, watching her click around on the tile floor and sing along. When it doesn’t seem like his sucking will get him anywhere, Bandit deflates and prepares to resort to plan B.

 

But then Montagne  _ laughs. _ The frown disappears and that warm sound nearly fills the mess hall and Josephine joins in too, climbing back up the benches to be waist level with her people. At first Bandit is appalled, because he hasn’t done anything at all in the past hour to warrant amusement, but before he can ask, Montagne has already hoisted him up and Bandit wraps his legs around his hips on mere instinct at this point, ignorant of their audience and the smug wolf whistle Josephine lets loose.

 

“Oh, you poor thing,” Montagne purrs, “Josie’s been swearing since she first watched  _ Reservoir Dogs _ . Nothing you did influenced her filthy mouth at all.”

 

Then it hits. Bandit growls and shoves half-heartedly at Montagne’s chest, burying his face in his shoulder to hide his reddening face, because the fucking bird was just  _ toying  _ with him and Montagne was probably in on it and he was played like a damn fiddle.

 

Said avian is still chuckling lowly, dancing around the table with quick little hops that shouldn’t be as endearing as they are, before picking a small crumb out of her wing and wiggling her head at the two before her. Smoke has already stolen his snacks and even what was left of Bandit’s lunch and has disappeared (for his own good, the thief), and the rest of the operators in the hall simply go back to their schedule as usual, which abates Bandit’s embarrassment only a touch. 

 

Montagne ruffles Bandit’s hair and presses a light and affectionate kiss to Bandit’s forehead, whistling a quiet “ _ Josie”  _ to prompt the parrot to step up, and she crawls up his sleeve while he spins around and carries his two most precious belongings back to the bunks for a much-needed nap, and a much-anticipated cuddle session. Besides, Josephine needed to go back to her cage anyway. It was much too long a day for her.

  
He just hoped she hadn’t torn more holes in the sheet covering the bars. Montagne didn’t want her to see what he had in mind for  _ after. _

**Author's Note:**

> Josephine and her personality were inspired by my Senegal parrot Casper. Casper is famous for laughing at you whenever you are hurt/feeling sad.


End file.
